Small Kindnesses
by avalonchick5
Summary: During the Godric's Hollow fiasco in DH. Starts with the scene where Harry and Hermione are following Bathilda in the movie. No Pairings. Sometimes, a small gesture can make all the difference.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**Note:** Movie-verse. Takes place during the Godric's Hollow fiasco in Deathly Hallows. Harry and Hermione are both themselves and not under the cloak. They are following Bathilda to her cottage after looking at the Potter ruin. Basically, think of the movie rather than the book.

Enjoy.

Harry and Hermione were following Bathilda out towards one of the cottages when a low voice made them pause.

"That's not her, you know." A girl was leaning against the gate of the ruined Potter home, looking at them. Hermione edged closer to Harry.

"How do you know?" he asked, a little confused and worried. He studied the girl, trying to determine her intentions. She wore a grey knit cap and matching fingerless gloves and scarf. A black winter coat hung over her slim frame, and dark jeans sheathed her legs. Grey and blue canvas sneakers completed her outfit. The girl had dark wavy hair, almost like Hermione's in style. Dark eyes looked at them steadily.

In response to his question, the girl laughed slightly bitterly. "Because I was the one who found her dead body. Bathilda and my mum used to be part of the same circle of friends, one that included several mothers from Godric's Hollow. After Mrs. Potter died, they sort of split, but my mum and Bathilda stayed in contact. I used to do odd jobs for her, and she was like a grandmother to me. About five months ago, I went in to see her and found her dead. She'd passed away in her sleep. I knew that she was very old, so it wasn't a huge shock, though it gave me enough grief.

Then, a month later, I saw her walking around the cemetery. Alive. She didn't speak to me at all, not even when I called out to her. I thought she was a ghost. But she wasn't. I realized she was talking, just not in a language I could understand. She was speaking to herself in hisses. Like a snake, you know? I've her around in the months since, but she's never stopped to talk to me. It's not her."

Hermione tugged on Harry's arm. "Harry, what if it's a trap?"

He ignored her. "Have you seen a man with white skin, red eyes, and a bald head around there?"

Hermione gasped.

The girl stiffened. "How did you know?" she breathed, peering at them with wide eyes. She shuddered. "He comes around every month. I've seen him talk to her."

Harry looked meaningfully at Hermione. "It's probably Nagini! This is our chance, Hermione! We can kill the snake!"

Hermione glared up at him. "And how, exactly, were you planning to do that? We have no Sword, I certainly can't cast the Killing Curse, and I really doubt you can either."

Harry sighed. She was right. They had no way to kill the snake. Damn it!

"Even if you do go after her, which I hope you don't, would you care to come to my house for Christmas dinner? It's just me and mum. You'd certainly be welcome," the girl said shyly, scuffing the toe of her trainer in the snow.

He glanced down at Hermione. She looked quite choked up, so he took it upon himself to answer. "Er, we'd be delighted to, I suppose." Hermione nodded wordlessly.

The girl seemed to cheer up. "Well, then, I'll take you in. Follow me."

Harry and Hermione hurried after the girl, who was walking toward the house next door to the Potter ruin. Harry's stomach jumped.

She led them into a cozy, warmly lit home.

"You can leave your wet things over here, if you'd like. Dinner should be ready in a moment," she said, indicating a warm radiator near the doorway. She pulled off her own gloves, scarf, hat, and coat and set them out next to the radiator, hurrying into the kitchen.

"Mum?" They could hear her calling. Harry and Hermione stripped off their cold clothes, leaving them neatly next to the girl's. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm again, and both kept their wands on them.

"Do you suppose…" Hermione's voice trailed off, and Harry shook his head. "I don't think they're Death Munchers," he replied softly. Hermione giggled.

The girl reappeared in the doorway. "Dinner's on the table," she said warmly, her eyes sparkling. "Thanks for coming, by the way," she added as she led them to a large table covered with food in the dining room. Harry and Hermione stared hungrily at the food. It had been so long since they'd had a proper meal.

"Go on, sit down. Mum will be here in a moment." At that moment, a lady in a wheelchair creakily wheeled herself into the room. The duo barely stopped themselves from staring.

It was obvious that the woman was sick and frail. She was extremely pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. She seemed utterly exhausted from the effort of wheeling the chair into the room.

"Mother, these are…"

"Hermione Granger," Hermione quickly interjected.

"Harry Potter." He didn't know why he'd said his proper name. The woman lifted her head and stared at him.

"Lily and James' boy?" she said in a hoarse voice. He nodded.

"I am Melanie Gryffin D'Or and this is my daughter, Arian Gryffin D'Or." The woman gestured to her daughter. Harry and Hermione stood stunned. The descendants of Gryffindor?

The two noticed their shocked look and the younger laughed lightly, while the elder shook her head.

"Please, take a seat." The lady nodded towards the chairs and they took their seats automatically. Hermione came out of the shock first.

"Thank you for inviting us," she said politely to Arian, and the dark-haired girl smiled in response. Harry quickly started to eat after a pinch from Hermione.

They ate heartily, making conversation throughout the meal. The elder Gryffin D'Or told Harry a little about his parents, mostly about his mother and how he and Arian had been such good friends when they were little. His heart ached as he imagined it.

He and Hermione also made subtle inquiries about Gryffindor heirlooms, but to their disappointment, neither of the Gryffin D'Ors seemed to know anything about them. Melanie commented that they probably went to another part of the line. They weren't the only Gryffindor descendants, after all. Arian also warned them discreetly that "Bathilda" had wandered back up to the graveyard again.

At the end of dinner, knowing they had to leave in order to be able to sneak into Bathilda's cottage, Harry and Hermione thanked them again and put on their outer clothes. Arian packed them a picnic basket full of food, commenting that they couldn't be too careful. She escorted them to the door.

When Harry turned back to give her a last goodbye and another thank you, Hermione waiting at the bottom of the steps, she reached out and gave him a hug.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," she murmured, releasing him. He stood, speechless, as she closed the door behind her. He tottered down the steps, slightly in shock.

Hermione smirked and elbowed him in the side. "Head in the game, mister," she teased, and he smiled. They both headed off to Bathilda's cottage, a warm glow in their hearts that warmed them through.

Sometimes, small kindnesses were all they needed.

AN: So, rather pointless I admit, but I wanted Harry and Hermione to have a little more happiness in their lives. I just watched the movie this morning and had to scribble this down.

Oh, right, I almost forgot. Let's pretend that Harry and Hermione snuck into the cottage but the snake was lying in wait and ambushed them. All the rest occurs the same way as in the book/movies.

Don't forget to review! I have adopted some fellow authors' flaming policy: I'll just laugh at you. And use them to scare my best friend's dog. I'm not a dog person.

Love,

Avalon


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